


Afternoon Tea

by Golden_Fleece



Category: Le Comte de Monte-Cristo | Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas, Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy, Voyná i mir | War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Angst, Chronologically Inaccurate, Complicated Relationships, Crossover, Friendship, Gen, Historical Inaccuracy, Hopeful Ending, I Mix Two Huge Books Because I Can, Late Night Conversations, Love, Pain, Revenge, Sad bois, Two Sad Men Talk About Their Feelings, What even is a timeline, life is hard guys, litterature, my two favourite fictional men meet i'm so happy, somewhat canon compliant, they really could be pals though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:21:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24747496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Golden_Fleece/pseuds/Golden_Fleece
Summary: A two-part conversation between Pierre Bezoukhov and Edmond Dantès. They share their misery, their disastrous love life, and their disbelief towards the world. Years later, they meet again and have a new outlook on the world. Their life is sweeter, they are happy at last.
Relationships: Edmond Dantès/Mercédès Mondego, Pyotr "Pierre" Kirillovich Bezukhov/Natalya "Natasha" Ilyinichna Rostova
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	1. Part One: Dust and Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> Part One :  
> If this were canon and chronologically accurate, this would happen  
> \- Right at the end of Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812  
> \- Between the second and third book in War and Peace  
> \- In the second book, around chapter 80 in The Count of Monte Cristo (after Edmond’s duel with Albert)  
> (Okay, I know this makes no sense timeline-wise, but think about the psychology of the characters at that point in the novels. That's what I was going for.)
> 
> Part Two :  
> Ten years later. Many years after the end of Great Comet/War and Peace and The Count of Monte Cristo

Pierre woke up later than usual that morning. At first, he was filled with a sense of serenity. This was so unusual in his life that he quickly worked on identifying the source of this unexpected feeling. He remembered his interview with young Natasha, his love and tenderness for her and the pity he felt for her frail and sickly figure. The girl had managed to avoid disgrace at the last moment, and this thought appeased his heart.

However, Natasha’s face was quickly replaced by Hélène’s features, and Pierre’s calm sensation stopped altogether. Instead, he was filled with hatred for his wife, who almost brought an innocent young girl to her ruin by tempting her and convincing her to elope with a man already married. Hélène was always ready to cause trouble and she never had remorse about anything. She only ran around, breaking innocent people’s lives and hearts.

Pierre got dressed, now brooding. His state of bliss was short-lived, and he went back to his usual anxiousness and apathy. He sat down at his study, read and wrote a few letters, and used the rest of the morning to study the latest masonic theories.

Pierre was startled by a knock on the door. He lifted his gaze to the clock on the wall and saw with horror that it was already four in the afternoon.

"Come in," Pierre said, a bit too harshly. His butler entered.

"Monsieur has a visitor. Is this a good time? I can tell him to come back tomorrow."

Pierre suddenly remembered that he was indeed expecting a guest.

"No, no, please tell him to wait in the parlour. I am right behind you. Please do bring us something to drink."

The butler bowed and left. Pierre put a bit of order in his papers and headed to the parlour. There, the Count of Monte Cristo was waiting for him.

"Count," Pierre said. "I am glad to see you. Was your journey to Moscow agreeable?"

"Count Bezoukhov, my friend," the other Count replied with a smile. "My journey was good, thank you. I must thank you for your invitation. I have never been to Russia before."

"Please, how many times shall I tell you that you must call me Pierre," asked Pierre, blushing.

The two men shook hands and sat in opposite chairs. The butler brought wine on a tray and placed it on a table between the two men. He filled the glasses and offered them to the two counts.

"Thank you, that will be all. I will call if I need you," said Pierre, sending away the butler.

The Count of Monte Cristo was smiling, handsome and still youthful. He was tired, having just arrived in Moscow after a long trip, but he tried to hide it the best he  
could, judging it otherwise improper.

"So, are you still studying the masonic ways?" the Count asked with a smile.

"Yes, they are taking quite a bit of my time, I shall say. You must join the brotherhood, my friend, you would discover the most intriguing truths."

"Oh, no, I’m afraid God hates me. I try to stay away from His gaze. I hope I am not insulting you, dear Pierre."

"Not at all, my friend. I understand."

The conversation was flowing in a mix of Russian and French. The Count of Monte Cristo was a polyglot and he had learned Russian even though this was the first time he visited Russia. He was truly talented with languages. As for Pierre, with his education, he was equally fluent in both languages.

"And married life?" the Count asked, teasingly. "How is it?"

"Please, do not oppress me with these questions!" Pierre exclaimed. "And celibacy? Are you still enjoying it?"

"I do. But it is lonely. I just duelled with the son of… Pierre, promise me you won’t tell?"

"Your secret is safe with me."

"I duelled with the son of a woman who is very dear to me. We… have known each other. In another life."

"There is always a woman," Pierre replied, dreamily.

"I heard that you have asked for reparation yourself?"

"Yes, a small situation, really. The other man recovered. My wife’s lover. It was not my proudest moment. I prefer to say that I avoided a duel."

"Pray tell, my friend?"

"It was about young Countess Rostova. She almost eloped with my brother-in-law, as she was betrothed to another man, very noble. She broke her engagement. The poor child…"

The Count of Monte Cristo noticed a change in Pierre’s physiognomy. The way he said Countess Rostova’s name, the tender expression he displayed clearly indicated his feelings towards the young woman.

"And what are your relations with the young Rostova?"

"Natasha… It is silly, you must forgive me. I love her, I do, but she is too young, too perfect for a man like me. And I am not free. She is too superior for it to be suitable."

The Count of Monte Cristo had a sympathetic smile. "I understand what you are feeling, please believe me when I say this. This woman I was telling you about, Countess de Morcerf, she is married. She is also too pure, too wise, too loyal for a vile man like me."

"Men like us are destined to suffering. We think too much. Our hearts are filled with too much hatred and spite. Sometimes I wonder if I even deserve life and love."

"I would like to disagree and tell you that you have a dark outlook on life, but I am afraid I agree with you. I have taken upon myself to judge and punish the guilty. I am playing God, and God punishes me by denying me love and tenderness." 

"I like to think that men like us have a higher mission on this earth. An avenging mission, if I may."

"Yes, I agree with you, my friend."

The conversation continued. Pierre and the Count of Monte Cristo were similar men in their beliefs. They both believed that they had a mission bigger than themselves. They were also both deeply unhappy. They had both been betrayed by the woman they loved. They lived alone, studying until they fell exhausted. 

"How do you find the mean to go on?" asked Pierre. "How do you find the will to continue to live when you see the woman you love, but you know that you will never have her. How do you live secluded, alone?"

"My dear Pierre, you first have to accept that you will never be happy. But you also have to convince yourself that you will be rewarded with the satisfaction of your actions. We study, we discover the secrets of the universe, and this is all the satisfaction we need. Do not limit your worth to the amount of love in your life. You will be rewarded in the next life."

Pierre nodded. He was satisfied with this answer. He promised himself to be even more hardworking. Indeed, there was a gratifying sensation that came when he learned or discovered something new. Pierre could imagine very well himself living a life completely devoted to studying sacred texts. 

The night was falling slowly in Moscow. In the sky, the great comet that Pierre had observed the night before was still clearly visible. He invited the Count of Monte Cristo to look out the window and admire the phenomenon by himself. 

"Yesterday, after leaving Natasha, I looked at the comet," said Pierre. "I remember now the impression it gave me. It is still the same. It calms me. It reminds me that our lives are so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. It does not scare me. On the contrary, I think that this comet might be a good omen."

"I do not understand."

"It brings me hope. Maybe we deserve better. Maybe, in the future, we will be happy. Imagine, my friend. In a few years, we will see each other again, and we will be happy."

"But don’t they say that this comet is a sign of the end of the world? Of unspeakable horrors?"

"They do say this, but I don’t believe them. This comet feels me, it lifts my soul. It is a promise of a new life."

"Pierre, I wish you are right. Let’s see each other again, in a few years. In ten years, same date, same time, let’s meet again. Let us hope that our lives will have turned around. If not, we can always share our misery again."

The two men shook hands, sealing the deal. They promised each other to stay in touch, write ofter, and share any interesting new discovery. Pierre watched the Count’s sleigh vanish in the night. It had been a strange day. He had stirred his insecurities, his weaknesses and his misery. At least, he had done so with a friend who lived through the same struggles.


	2. Wait and Hope

Pierre thought that he wouldn’t be able to wait ten years. However, he found himself forgetting that he was longing to see his friend again. As a matter of fact, he was very busy. From his time as a prisoner of war, then to his wedding to Natasha and the birth of their three children, and with his intellectual work, Pierre had a lot to keep busy. Pierre also exchanged letters with the Count of Monte Cristo regularly, but the latter never spoke of the promise of a reunion. 

In the last year, the Count had been strangely silent, therefore Pierre started to worry. Did he forget? Did he die? Was he in danger? Today was the day of the reunion and Pierre hoped that he wasn’t preparing pointlessly. To wait all day and never see his friend would be devastating. 

"Do not worry, dear Pierre," Natasha had told him often in the last week. "From what you told me about this man, he is to be trusted. He will come."

Pierre wanted to believe his wife. He also thought that doubting the Count would insult him. So, he buried himself into work in order to keep his mind off the problem. But Pierre couldn’t keep himself from raising his head every few minutes to check the clock. Two hours left… Pierre decided to take a walk to clear his mind. He rang his butler, asked for his coat, put it on and exited his house. It was snowing lightly and the noises were ushered by a thick blanket of whiteness. 

Pierre set off to the main road. Far in the distance, he thought he could see a sleigh coming towards him. Intrigued, and his heart pounding with hope, he walked towards the vehicle. It took him several minutes to reach it. It was farther than he had estimated. When he saw who was on board the sleigh, his heart leaped.

The Count of Monte Cristo, seeing who was on the road, waving his arms, tapped the driver’s shoulder and asked him to stop in a perfect Russian. 

"Pierre! I see you couldn’t wait for me," the Count laughed, still speaking Russian.

"My dear friend, how was your journey? You seem very well!"

The Count was indeed beaming. He looked older, yes, his dark brown hair was now streaked with a few silver strands. At his side sat a beautiful young woman wrapped and furs and shivering. She was smiling at Pierre.

"Est-ce l’homme dont tu m’as parlé tant de fois?" the woman asked, leaning sideways to whisper in the Count’s ear.

"Yes, Haydée, this is Count Pierre Bezukhov, a dear friend of mine," the Count answered. "He also speaks perfect French."

The Count turned to Pierre to introduce the woman to him. 

"This is Haydée, my wife."

Pierre greeted her and kissed her hand. The Count invited Pierre to climb in the sleigh to reach his house faster. Pierre accepted with gratitude and the small party glided to Pierre’s estate.

***

The two men were now seated in the tea room by a fire, brushing off the last snowflakes from their hair. They sat across from each other and at first said nothing, staring at one another with a wide smile. 

"It is so good to see you, Count," Pierre said, breaking the silence. "I am ashamed to say that, for a moment, I thought that you had forgotten and that you wouldn’t come."

The Count laughed wholeheartedly. "Pierre, please, call me Edmond. Also, I am sorry, I have not been answering your letters lately. I was travelling and I never could leave you an address to reach me. I am deeply sorry."

Pierre realized that this was the first time that the Count told him his name. For all these years, he had referred him as the Count of Monte Cristo, and he always thought it to be improper to ask about his Christian name. There was an aura of mystery around Edmond, and Pierre instinctively knew that it was better not to ask too many personal questions. Edmond noticed that Pierre was confused.

"I’m sorry for keeping my name a secret for so long," Edmond explained. "I have been hiding my true identity for so many years, for… a personal vendetta. But this is all behind me now. God gave me a second chance at life and I am grateful for it, so I reclaimed my true identity."

"I am glad that you feel this way," Pierre said. "I myself was blessed. During my first marriage, I was unhappy, I thought that my life was over. Then she died, I was in the war, and when I came back I discovered that I still had so much to live. Now I have a beautiful wife and three healthy children."

There was a knock on the door. Natasha entered the room with a tea tray. 

"I’m sorry to interrupt, I was too curious! I had to meet the famous Count of Monte Cristo, so I took the tray from the maid and brought it in myself."

Pierre smiled wildly. "Speaking of the devil. Edmond, please meet my lovely wife, Natasha."

She put down the tray on the table between the two men and bowed slightly to Edmond.

"I was just acquainted with your wife," Natasha said. "She is a delightful young woman. She knows so much about the world and the children like her so much already! I’m going to leave you now."

Pierre pressed Natasha’s hand quickly before letting her go. When the door closed back on her, Pierre spoke.

"I thought I was too old for happiness. Yet look! I married the woman I loved for so many years. And she loves me, too. Happiness was so close to me for such a long time, I just couldn’t see it."

"I understand. The same happened to me. After… after punishing the people who wronged me, I thought that my life was over. I was planning on hiding somewhere to die slowly. But the Haydée told me that she had loved me for all the years she had been in my service. And this made me realize that I, too had feelings for her. We had been inseparable ever since."

"I think that we are being rewarded for our hardships," Pierre thought out loud. "Somewhere, a god is watching us, and gives us the satisfaction we wanted, because we stayed true to ourselves and to our principles, even though we were suffering."

"I have played God for so many years, it is good to be free at last and to enjoy the years that I have left," Edmond sighed. "I had already travelled around the world once, but I was so busy setting my plan. I did a second trip around the world with Haydée and for the first time I fully appreciated the world’s wonders."

"You are in luck. If I had fewer obligations, I would like to travel, too. But I wouldn’t change what I have for the world."

"You should come to Paris, one day. I would gladly have you as a host."

"I would love that, thank you."

The two men fell into a contemplative silence. They sipped their tea. 

"Do you remember," Pierre asked. "The last time we saw each other, there was a great comet in the sky."

"Yes, I remember. What about it?"

"I was convinced that this was the sign of a new life waiting for me. And look at me now."

"I have learned to be optimistic, through the years. I have to admit that I was skeptical when you first told me this, but now I believe you."

"Edmond," Pierre reached for his friend’s hand. "Will you stay a few days? Our wives are getting along so well. There is a ball soon, I could introduce you to Moscow’s society. I am sure that they would welcome you warmly."

"I will stay gladly. We will catch up and make up for the ten years we have been apart. Allow me to ask my wife first."

Pierre nodded and stood up. He led Edmond to the door and showed him where his wife was waiting for him. Haydée was in the music room. Natasha was at the piano and Haydée was singing a beautiful melody. Natasha and Pierre’s three children were dancing and laughing. Pierre’s heart filled with joy at the sight of this scene.   
Haydée, seeing her husband entering the room, finished her song and rushed to him. 

"Edmond, Natasha is a wonderful person. Warm and welcoming, smart and curious. I am enjoying myself too much."

Edmond took Haydée’s hands in his. "So you wouldn’t object to us staying here for a few days? Pierre has just kindly asked us to accompany him to a ball this week."

"This is wonderful news!" Haydée exclaimed, turning to Natasha, then back to Pierre. "Thank you for your kindness."

"It is my pleasure."

Pierre then introduced his children to the Count and Countess of Monte Cristo. At first, they were intimidated by Edmond’s tall and imposing stature, but they soon enough discovered that he was a good man with a generous heart. 

The two families spent a week of pure happiness. Edmond and Haydée were very well received by the Moscow society, just as Pierre thought. When it was time for them to leave and go back to their home in Paris, Pierre was sad, yes, but also hopeful. The promise to come to Paris in the future, and the promise to keep in touch, was enough to assure him that this friendship would last for the years to come.


End file.
